


Hold Me Close and Say Everything's Alright

by whenshewrites



Series: A Collection of One-Shots and Tumblr Prompts [54]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale Needs a Hug, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Derek Hale is Stiles Stilinski's Anchor, Derek Hale is a Softie, Everyone Needs A Hug, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Pre-Slash, Sorta Scene Rewrite, Stiles Stilinski Deserves Nice Things, Stiles Stilinski Is Bad at Feelings, Stiles Stilinski Needs a Hug, Stiles Stilinski is Derek Hale's Anchor, The Darach - Freeform, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:41:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24987703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenshewrites/pseuds/whenshewrites
Summary: Stiles tries to take his anger out on Derek after the Darach takes his father. But the anger doesn't last very long.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: A Collection of One-Shots and Tumblr Prompts [54]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956889
Comments: 11
Kudos: 420





	Hold Me Close and Say Everything's Alright

When the Darach had taken his father, Stiles thought he knew what real panic was like. But then Scott had told him they’d find Derek, they’d find Jennefier, and everything would be alright. And Stiles had accepted that. He’d believed that everything could be alright.

But now Jennifer was gone again, Scott had vanished with Deucalion, and Stiles’s dad was still missing. He was still missing and Stiles was terrified he was never going to see him again.

Derek sat next to him in the jeep as Stiles drove and didn’t say a word.

Stiles wanted to scream.

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t do this without his dad; nothing was allowed to happen to him. With all the things supernatural that had occurred in Beacon Hills, Stiles had come to that decision long ago. Anything could happen to him. But nothing was allowed to happen to his dad.

But something had.

His grip was white-knuckled and trembling on the steering wheel. Stiles could feel Derek watching him, but he didn’t return the man’s gaze. His eyes stayed firmly on the road, headlights shining in the darkness, his foot pressed a little too hard against the gas pedal.

The last thing he expected was Derek to be the one breaking the silence.

“Stiles—”

And Stiles hit the brakes.

He could tell Derek was just as surprised as he was, but Stiles didn’t think as he pulled off the side of the road and turned off his jeep. He was breathing unsteadily again and could feel a panic attack climbing up his throat. It was like a hand squeezing tight and cutting off his oxygen. He couldn’t get enough air. He could barely see straight.

Derek was saying something, but Stiles wasn’t listening to him.

He shoved his door open and stumbled out of the jeep, feeling the cool nighttime air hit him in the face. Stumbling sideways, Stiles collapsed against the passenger door of his car, and his fingers clawed at the cold blue metal, scratching away some of the blue paint with his nails. 

The world turned sideway and Stiles felt himself falling.

But Derek came around the side of the car and caught him by the shoulders before Stiles could collapse to his knees. The man was snarling his name now, hands gripping his shoulders tight and shaking him a little, but Stiles couldn’t concentrate on that.

Derek’s hold was too tight. The man stood too close. Stiles elbowed him in the stomach and yanked away as Derek’s voice finally reached his ears.

“—iles, you need to calm down. Do you hear me? You’re panicking, Stiles, you need to take a deep breath!”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Stiles gasped, shoving the heels of his hands into his eyes as he stumbled sideways. He tried to take a deep breath, he really did, but his brain wasn’t listening. All Stiles could focus on was the fact that his dad was missing, the Darach was gone, and now Scott had abandoned him too.

There was no one else. No one else to help.

Derek caught his shoulder again. Stiles spun around and shoved him away, panic turning into rage that bubbled up in his throat and came out of his mouth like poison.

“This is your fault, Derek! This is all your fault!”

The man’s eyes flashed and he straightened, expression turning tight. But Stiles didn’t care. Scott wasn’t here to talk him down and there was nothing holding Stiles back anymore. He was so sick and tired of everything supernatural. Of it all ruining his life.

“She was your girlfriend, Derek! You were the one she was closest to! All of this ‘we’re connected’ and ‘she’s only doing what’s necessary’ crap is a load of bullshit! You realize that, right? She’s a goddamn monster just like the rest of them, and she’s going to kill my dad. Derek, she’s going to kill my dad!”

“I won’t let that happen,” Derek said. And all Stiles saw was red.

“You won’t let that happen?  _ You won’t let that happen?”  _ he shoved Derek again and the man barely stumbled. In anger, Stiles tried to push him again. And again. The night was silent around them and there was no one else on the road. There was nothing to stop Stiles and no voices in his head to tell him enough was enough.

Derek was barely moving. He was like an immovable force and once more, Stiles was too weak to do anything about it. He was just a human in all of this supernatural bullshit. He didn’t have anything but his wits and a baseball bat and when it came down to things, clearly that wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough.

He wasn’t enough to save his dad.

“You can’t save him!” Stiles shouted, words hoarse and catching in his throat. “You can’t do anything! Dammit, Derek, there’s nothing you can do! And that’s your fault!”

The man didn’t say a word. He didn’t move either, jaw clenched tight and eyes locked tight on Stiles’s face. His face was blank. Expressionless.

Stiles wanted to see something.

When he hit the man, he was pretty sure it hurt him more than it hurt Derek. But Stiles wanted to see something. He wanted Derek to feel something _.  _ Because Stiles felt like someone had taken a knife to his stomach and ripped out his heart. If it wasn’t thudding so hard against his chest, panic and terror and anger making him want to scream, Stiles would think maybe someone had.

“Come on, Derek, fight back! Fight back! Fight back, you coward!

When he hit Derek a second time, his knuckles split. And by the third time, Derek’s eyes finally flickered. Stiles took that bit of victory and swung at him as hard as he could.

Derek caught his fist this time.

“Stiles.”

His voice was soft and gentle, and that was the last thing Stiles wanted to hear. A sob forced its way out of his throat and he tried to yank his hand loose, but Derek’s grip tightened. Not enough to hurt, but enough to keep his fist trapped in one overly-large hand.

Stiles smacked at Derek’s chest with his other hand, trying to yank away. But when Derek caught that one too, Stiles sobbed again.

“Let go,” he said, trying to pull away. “Derek, let go.”

“No, Stiles.”

“Derek, let go! Let go of me, dammit, let go!”

He tried to wiggle away but Stiles was one-hundred and forty-seven pounds of pale skin and fragile bone, and Derek was a werewolf. Stiles knew he wasn’t going anywhere, even as he finally broke down and started to drop to the ground, throat so tight he couldn’t breathe.

Derek caught him instead and Stiles didn’t know what to do as his face pressed against the man’s chest and his shoulders shook with barely contained sobs. Stiles hated himself for giving in and at the same time, he couldn’t muster up the energy to break away. His knuckles throbbed and his head hurt. His heart was still pounding.

Derek let go of his hands to wrap his arms around Stiles’s shoulders and pull him in closer. And Stiles didn’t know what to do except take it, eyes closed and body trembling.

“He’s not supposed to get hurt,” Stiles croaked. “Derek, he’s not supposed to get hurt. He’s my dad.”

“He’s not going to get hurt.”

“He’s my dad.”

“I know, Stiles.”

“He can’t die, Derek. I can’t lose anyone else.”

Derek was quiet then, but Stiles felt his grip tighten a little. The tears had stopped coming and he no longer felt like he was suffocating, but Stiles still felt like he could fall apart at any second. He kept seeing the Darach’s face and the smile as she told them that she was their only chance of saving his dad. She said she’d save— she’d spare— his dad.

And now she was gone. She was gone, Scott was gone, and Stiles was all alone.

Except maybe he wasn’t.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles said, closing his eyes. He could hear the beating heart of the werewolf through his shirt and never imagined that Derek Hale would smell like peaches. That didn’t make sense. “I’m sorry, Derek.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“I hurt you.”

“You tried.”

“I hit you.”

“Werewolf.”

Stiles huffed, and was surprised at the sound. Slowly, he pulled away and wiped at his eyes, wincing as he flexed his fingers. He was still shaking a little, but not nearly as bad. Derek studied him and then reached out, taking one of Stiles’s hands and surveying his split knuckles.

Little lines of black started to creep up the man’s arm. The pain almost instantly went away.

Stiles was pretty sure his heart skipped a beat.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he said quietly, keeping his eyes fixed on their hands. “I know I said it was, but none of this is your fault. I just… I couldn’t…”

“I know.”

“You couldn’t have known about Jennifer. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I know, Stiles.”

“Derek,” Stiles said, suddenly desperate for something. He wasn’t sure, but it felt like there was a hand around his heart, tugging. But when he met Derek’s gaze and saw the red-rimmed around his eyes and the circles underneath them, all words died in his throat.

What Stiles had mistaken for a blank expression was a broken one. There was a small mark on the man’s cheek where Stiles’s fist had connected, but it was fading fast. The man looked… miserable. Maybe as miserable as Stiles felt.

Suddenly, Stiles felt worse. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that.”

“Do you want to hit me back?”

Derek shook his head, but a small smile tugged at his lips. He was still holding Stiles’s hand, even though the black lines had stopped creeping up his arm ages ago. Stiles realized he wasn’t the only one trembling slightly. He probably hadn’t been all along.

“I’m going to find him,” Derek said softly. “Your dad.”

“Not if I find him first.”

A small looked of fond exasperation replaced the broken one in Derek’s eyes. His throat bobbed as he swallowed and Stiles felt his face warm a little as he tracked the motion. He tore his eyes away and for a moment, they just stood there. In the silence, in the night, with bloody knuckles and an empty car.

Once more, Derek was the first one to break the silence.

“Are you okay to drive now?”

Stiles nodded. The man let go of his hand and he felt the loss instantly. Not because of the returning pain but… suddenly the air was too cold. Where Derek’s hand had been, Stiles’s skin tingled. 

“Do you want to go now?”

He nodded again. The lump was back in his throat but Stiles tried to shove that feeling deep down. He followed Derek back toward the jeep and climbed into the driver’s seat. The man climbed in next to him and carefully buckled. But even after turning on the car, Stiles just sat there.

His vision sharpened on the road. He turned Roscoe’s headlights back on.

Derek laid a hand over his knee and it stayed there.

When Stiles started to drive again, he felt less like he was falling apart. He could still feel some sort of sharp loss in his chest and all of his thoughts were still concentrated on his dad, but he didn’t think he was panicking anymore. Or at least, not as hard. 

Derek sat next to him in the jeep and didn’t say a word. But Stiles no longer wanted to scream.

The hand on his knee never left.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "come on! fight back! fight back! fight back, you coward!" and I don't usually write angst, but I couldn't resist with this one. Of course, I love to hear what you guys think! And I adore you all <3
> 
> Come hang with me on Tumblr?
> 
> [the dumpster](https://when-she-writes-stuff.tumblr.com/)


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